At the health club Sunday, a 30ish fellow spots me getting dressed and stops cold next to my locker.
“Hey, what’d you think of the game?”
I realized I was wearing my Stanford Biz t-shirt.
“I missed it. We had a bat mitzvah—which turned out to be fortunate.”
He went on about the team, how disappointed he was by the outcome, how angry Hogan looked at one moment, and how much hope he still had. I offered my theory, then asked when he attended Stanford.
“I didn’t.”
“Where’d you go?”
“Here—the U.”
“So, what turned you into such a huge Stanford fan?”
“Your coach. I love coach Shaw.”
“Hey, what’d you think of the game?”
I realized I was wearing my Stanford Biz t-shirt.
“I missed it. We had a bat mitzvah—which turned out to be fortunate.”
He went on about the team, how disappointed he was by the outcome, how angry Hogan looked at one moment, and how much hope he still had. I offered my theory, then asked when he attended Stanford.
“I didn’t.”
“Where’d you go?”
“Here—the U.”
“So, what turned you into such a huge Stanford fan?”
“Your coach. I love coach Shaw.”
